I wanted to refuse right there at the bottom of the stairs. But I have lived long enough to know that telling your only daughter no in her own house can turn into a fight you pay on for a year, and Michelle is the only child I have. So I climbed all thirteen stairs, smiled, and said, “Thank you, honey. I’ll give it some thought.” I folded Todd’s paper in thirds and put it in my purse. Michelle looked relieved. Todd looked like a man who’d been handed an extra hour to live, and I noticed that and set it aside.
I didn’t have long to decide. I had to be out of the farmhouse before November first. The house had come with Dale’s job, and after he died the Olsons kindly let me stay on, but their son Caleb was coming home to work the farm and bringing a wife and a new baby, and they needed the roof. Understanding that is a cold comfort when half your boxes are packed and your husband’s watch still hangs on its nail by the kitchen door because you can’t make yourself take it down.
